Arthur (Andy) Felts

Vulnerable Populations or Assets?

My graduate advisor and I were once talking about Marx and the fact that the spontaneous proletarian he predicted would occur was obviously not going to. He looked at me and said—“Look at how Marx described the proletariat. It was always in negative terms. They lacked this or that; they used religion as an opiate, and are reduced to an animal-like existence. Who would want to be a member of such a group?”

As I keep wrestling with the idea of “vulnerable populations” that has become so ubiquitous in disaster literature, I wonder out loud if the very term “vulnerable” is a good one to use. I doubt that anyone would like to be characterized as such and probably don’t think of themselves that way either.

In 1993, John McKnight and John Kretzmann published Building Communities from the Inside Out: A Path Toward Finding and Mobilizing a Community’s Assets. They were specifically reacting to the growing practice of doing “needs analyses” in our poor, vulnerable communities. In doing needs analysis, we concentrate on what the communities don’t have. In doing what they called “asset analysis or mapping,” the focus on what they do have.

Most of the analyses of vulnerable populations tend to incorporate negatives—implicitly saying what they need. Income is likely low. Educational achievement is lower than average. There may be large numbers of single-parent households and a large number of renters. It is easy to see what they don’t have—more difficult to see what they do have.

A few years ago, Rev. Bill Stanfield moved his wife and kids into Chickora Cherokee, a North Charleston neighborhood, and founded a nonprofit called “Metanoia.” He looked at what the community did have—the capacity to become more self-sufficient. He followed John McKnight’s observation in The Careless Society that large numbers of social service providers meeting “needs” in a community tended to weaken it rather than strengthen it. Slowly, Metanoia has promoted grass roots, community engagement and has built a much stronger and more resilient community by building on assets, not meeting needs.

The point here is relatively simple. As long as we focus on a community’s needs or vulnerabilities, we neglect to see what it has in the way of assets. Many poor, rural communities may be wealthy in social capital—and more and more analysts are seeing how critical this asset is in disaster recovery. Social capital may exist in the form of tight bonds among a group, the presence of extended families, and frequented “third places” like a barbershop, beauty shop, or diner.

Where social capital is created, it can be used as a building block to improve lives. Neighbors might begin to use neighborhood handymen rather than outside contractors. Metanoia provides daycare where the caregivers are community residents and operates a farmer’s market where residents can sell vegetables and crafts that they grow or make.

 There can be little question that these steps have all increased Chickora Cherokee’s resilience even though it still has many needs and would be characterized as vulnerable. I’m sure that the residents are looking at what they do have rather than what they don’t

CARRI is all about promoting more community self-sufficiency. You can’t do that by constantly looking at what you don’t have.

Arthur (Andy) Felts

Cascading Events Redux

The late, great Senator Everett Dirksen is reputed to have said, “A Billion [dollars] here, a Billion there, and pretty soon you are talking real money.” This pronouncement, by the way, was made in the 1960s when he was criticizing what he thought was the profligate spending style of Lyndon Johnson.

I suppose we could change the billion to trillion and the quote would be more accurate for today’s times. I think a billion is still pretty accurat

The massive snowstorm, a natural, anticipatable disaster, that hit the US NE last week is said to have likely cost retailers a billion dollars in lost holiday revenue.

A few blogs ago, I wrote about cascading events in terms of the old adage, “for want of a nail, a horseshoe was lost, for want of a horseshoe, a rider was lost….”

In this case, the reality is a lot of small businesses rely on holiday spending for as much as half their annual revenue. The battle will not be lost for a while. Many will struggle for a few months before collapsing. When they do, it will not be readily apparent that a snowstorm a few months ago was their loss of a nail.

In resilience thinking, this leads me to ponder two things and put them out as a challenge for thinking about slow motion disasters.

First, it would behoove us to think about the role that small businesses play in our own communities.

There is an obvious economic impact. The business will have to let go of employees that will, in turn, cause other employees to lose jobs and lead to predictable outcomes. This affects tax revenues and so on.

Another impact might be structural. A closing small business that anchored a neighborhood enclave with others might be a tipping point, causing a downturn in that specific place and result in more negative effects.

But there are human impacts as well.

That small business might have been the sponsor of a little league baseball team or an active member of the Chamber and participated in Rotary.

It might have been part of our sense of community. I just finished watching one of myriad food shows on TV that seeks out small restaurants/businesses that are great places to eat. They are often unique structures, as eclectic in style as possible—old barns, basements, bars, etc.  Compare that with the programmed, theme-style look of chain restaurants. Are you in Kansas or California?

To extend that idea, high-end chair retail stores that can pay top dollar rents are, increasingly occupying downtown Charleston, once populated by unique small businesses. They occupy the same buildings, but they have lost a sense of location. I think that Charleston’s old core is changing.

The real heart of Charleston has moved further north —and that is where you find Charlestonians frequenting. On the food shows, patrons comment that the “come here all the time.” The small boutiques, art shops, clothing stores can become community gathering places.

In all those ways, a small business in a community is everyone’s business. But it’s “just a nail.”